“You will be famous,” is the first thing I remember my mother telling me. I had no idea how true that was. I walt through school my shoes squeaking on the floor, a bodyguard on my right, I had no idea what it meant, I just thought he was my friend. Other children couldn’t come near me, I stayed inside and watched them run, even the teacher had left the room. An unfamiliar feeling curled in my gut; I would later recognise it as loneliness. I pushed it away I didn’t know it then but I would be doing that often.

The next few years passed in much the same manner; I think I was about ten when I realised what all this meant. I was in history class, I was related to everyone we learnt about, from presidents of old to Hollywood movie stars, they were all family. I see their names on the family tapestry. It dawned on me that these weren’t just the ordinary people I had known all my life, instead they were famous, put on a pedestal for all to admire, if they were famous then so was I. I had never wondered why we had such a big house or why we could holiday nearly every month, I just assumed it was like that for everyone.

It changed when I went to university, people pointing at me, whispering, mum said it was time for me to make a name for myself. Businesses and charities were set up in my name, at this point the ugly side of the world revealed itself to me. Family scandals from embezzlement to infidelity, it clicked I finally understood why I needed a bodyguard. Cameras flashed, voices surged to them I was not a person, it’s hard to exist when your name is a business.

I walk past a homeless man sitting on the street, only a threadbare blanket to keep him warm. I toss a coin at him and keep walking; I can’t be distracted by such trivial matters. Boardroom meetings are an almost daily occurrence, when did I start thinking of people as statistics? My uncle becomes President, more family scandals are unearthed, the only difference is I’m now a part of them. A cousin dies, a niece is born, this family keeps regenerating.

I’m the State Attorney now, I have just sent my children to school with their bodyguard, they think he’s their friend, I think it’s cute. I lean back in my chair sunlight streaming through the windows, heating on full-blast. I read over my nephew’s files, I’ll have to get him pardoned at some point, my life is perfect. Outside the world burns.

– Eliza Eperon